> Disclaimer: I do not have ownership of Star Wars and all it's intellectual properties aside from my original characters and creations.
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A cold, creeping thought slithered into my mind—a thought that scared me. Did I jinx myself by thinking that? I wondered, my eyes darting around the busy market. I couldn't shake the unease that settled in my gut. Did I jinx myself by thinking I jinxed myself?
I felt a trickle of panic clawing at my chest. Was I actually just stupid and never noticed it? The idea gnawed at me, lingering and pulling me deeper into my own doubts. Then, another possibility emerged, one that seemed even worse. Or… am I just plain crazy?
Suddenly, Davik's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "Yes, I do find you rather crazy-looking," he said, startling me so badly I nearly jumped.
Did I just say that out loud? My face burned with embarrassment. I turned to him, trying to play it off. "Uh... what was I saying?" I asked, doing my best to sound casual despite my hammering heart.
Davik's eyes narrowed slightly. "You asked, 'Am I crazy?'" he said matter-of-factly.
At least he didn't hear me worrying about being stupid, I thought, inwardly sighing in relief. That would have been a whole new level of embarrassment.
Before I could even gather my thoughts, Davik interrupted again. "We're here," he said, gesturing toward a small, sturdy-looking building on the edge of the market. Without another word, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, leaving me scrambling to catch up.
The inside of the shop was dimly lit and packed with shelves crammed full of all kinds of goods—clothing, supplies, bits of technology, and various knick-knacks I couldn't quite identify. My gaze swept over the space, taking in the rustic atmosphere, before settling on the man behind the counter. He looked up as we entered, his eyes briefly locking onto mine before shifting to Davik.
Davik greeted the shopkeeper with a curt nod, not overly friendly but not hostile either. There was something in the way they regarded each other, a quiet sort of respect that made me pause. Not friends, I thought, watching their interaction carefully. But not enemies, either. They've definitely done this before.
There was a subtle tension in the air, a kind that only comes from two people who know their roles well. They didn't exchange pleasantries, just a few brief words that I couldn't quite catch. Then I realized—I was witnessing a battle of wits. I could see it in the way they moved, in the slight shifts of their expressions and the measured tone of their words.
Bargaining experts, I mused, impressed despite myself. I bet neither of them ever backs down easily. Of course, all of this was just my own guesswork, but the atmosphere in the room seemed to confirm my suspicions.
I stayed quiet, deciding it was better to keep my mouth shut and watch the scene unfold rather than risk embarrassing myself further. I needed to get some gear—real gear—and I had to find a way to not look like some LARPer dropped into a galaxy that took everything way more seriously than I ever could. Whatever was about to happen, I could tell it was going to be a lesson in negotiation—one that I might need sooner rather than later, given my current situation and my sudden obsession with getting my hands on some actual Star Wars armor.
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The store owner's eyes lit up the moment he saw Davik, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Davik, you're finally here," he said, his voice carrying a hint of teasing impatience. "You took your time."
Davik shrugged casually, shooting me a sideways glance before replying. "Well… I didn't know what color you'd like," he said, an amused smile tugging at his lips.
For a moment, the store owner just narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Davik with an almost comically serious expression. Then, he burst out laughing—a loud, genuine belly laugh that echoed off the walls. Davik chuckled too, though his was softer, more subdued.
I blinked, utterly dumbfounded. All the elaborate scenarios I'd concocted in my head—bargaining showdowns, secret codes, subtle power plays—went up in smoke. These two weren't enemies or rivals; they were friends. Well, that's one way to misread a situation, I thought, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
When the laughter finally died down, the store owner's gaze shifted to me, curiosity in his eyes. "And who's this tagalong?" he asked, gesturing toward me with a thumb.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Davik stepped to the side and waved a hand in my direction. "This is Jake. Found him wandering in the desert, looking a bit… lost," he said with a hint of humor in his voice.
I tried to smile and not look as awkward as I felt. "Uh, yeah. That's me. Jake," I said, feeling like I was being introduced at an awkward family reunion. The store owner's scrutiny made me fidget, and I resisted the urge to rub the back of my neck.
"Name's Kado," the shopkeeper said, offering a nod. "Well, Jake, welcome to my humble shop. What can I get you?"
I hesitated, suddenly hyper-aware that I was still standing in fancy-looking pajamas in the middle of a Star Wars market. "I… uh… I could use some clothes," I admitted. "Something, you know, less… out of place."
Kado's eyes flicked down to my pajama ensemble, and a knowing smile spread across his face. "Ah, yeah. Those are a bit… extravagant for our little corner of the galaxy," he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "You're in luck, though. I've got all kinds of clothing. What's your budget?"
I glanced at Davik, unsure what to say. Budget? I hadn't even considered how I'd pay for anything. I hadn't thought that far ahead.
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I started to panic as soon as Kado mentioned money. Budget? Crap, I don't have a single credit on me. My mind raced, and I glanced around the shop, desperately searching for something—anything—that might give me an idea. Shelves crammed with tech, gadgets, and random bits of scrap seemed to taunt me, all of them sparking possibilities. Dozens of ideas popped into my head—ways I could rig together a power converter, upgrade some old hardware, or create a makeshift sensor—but they all had one glaring problem: they'd take weeks to finish. I needed something I could do in hours, not days.
I was so deep in thought I barely noticed Kado and Davik watching me. They exchanged glances as I stared at the tech on the shelves like a kid eyeing candy in a store window.
"So," Kado said, breaking the silence. "You don't have any money, do you?" His tone was flat, more of a statement than a question. Then he turned to Davik, frowning slightly. "You know I don't do charity."
I flinched, feeling my cheeks heat up again, and looked to Davik, who just shrugged. "Hey, he sliced into a water vaporator and made it work better," Davik said. He sounded almost defensive, though there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Didn't even look like he knew how it worked. But it's running smoother now."
Kado's eyebrows shot up. He turned back to me, his face a mix of skepticism and interest. "Ehem," he said, the sound slicing through my thoughts and jerking me back to reality.
I blinked and looked at him, trying to focus. "Huh? Sorry, what?"
Kado's eyes narrowed slightly as he repeated, "Davik here says you improved a water vaporator on a farm not too far away." He paused, and I saw his eyes sharpen as if gauging my reaction.
Someone's farm? I thought, glancing at Davik. Wait... it wasn't his? But I didn't have time to dwell on it because Kado was still talking, his gaze never leaving my face.
"I've got a trio of pit droids and an old astromech droid," Kado said, jerking a thumb toward the back of the shop. "They're ancient and barely functional. If you can fix them up—and make them better than they were—then we'll call it a deal. I'll get you set up with whatever clothes and supplies you need."
I swallowed hard, feeling a rush of adrenaline. Fixing up droids? That was way more doable than building something from scratch, and I already felt ideas forming in the back of my mind. A small grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. "Deal," I said, feeling a burst of confidence despite the knot of nerves tightening in my stomach.
Kado gave me a measuring look, then nodded slowly. "Alright, then. Follow me. Let's see if you're as good as Davik claims." He turned and led the way to the back of the shop, where the old droids were waiting—dusty, worn down, and in desperate need of some TLC.
Okay, Jake, I thought, rolling up my sleeves. Time to prove you're not just some crazy guy in fancy pajamas.
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